


the chained and drowned will teach you how to breathe

by gaslightgallows (hearts_blood)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Annoyed Valkyrie, Bathing/Washing, Chains, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Loki you little shit, Oral Sex, Showers, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 11:29:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13879932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearts_blood/pseuds/gaslightgallows
Summary: After beating the shit out of him, Valkyrie brings Loki back to her apartment to clean him up a bit.





	the chained and drowned will teach you how to breathe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/gifts).



> Prompt: “Get on your knees.” (Valki) For veliseraptor. A very portentous title for a very shallow story. Happy birthday! ♥
> 
> If you're on Tumblr, please consider following me at [gaslightgallows.tumblr.com](http://gaslightgallows.tumblr.com) for more fic, reblogs about writing, and lots of randomness. Thank you for reading and especially for commenting. Comments are love. ♥

The neighbors said nothing about a scrapper carrying an unconscious man twice her size over her shoulder through the trash-strewn hallways of the apartment tower, especially not when it was Scrapper One-Four-Two. They all valued their lives and they all appreciated having working genitalia that was attached to their bodies, and as they all wanted to remain alive and sexually functional, they kept out of her way. There was a look in her eyes that nobody wanted to see at the other end of a gun. 

Valkyrie stormed into her apartment and flung her burden unceremoniously into a corner. Loki’s tall body flopped through the air and crashed into a pile of empty liquor bottles and dirty clothes, sending all sliding and clattering to the floor. Loki didn’t move.

Warily, with a dagger in one hand, she approached her unwanted house guest. She wouldn’t be altogether sorry if he was dead, but it would put a bit of a crimp in her plan to join Thor’s little suicide mission. Which she wanted do do. For some reason. 

She pushed her reasons out of her mind and loomed over the... prince. The realization was belated and infuriating. Adopted or not, he was Thor’s brother, a member of the royal family of Asgard, and very technically, someone a valkyrie ought to be deferential to.

Oh, and hadn’t he realized it, too. The moment he’d seen the tattoo and understood what she was, his whole demeanor had changed. There’d been a little gleam in his eye of delight and surprise, and then the whole mantle of authority had come down and he’d thrown a mind-storm at her and shredded what little composure she had left. 

Her hand tightened on the dagger. Adopted or not, he was absolutely an Odinson. So much so that she almost rethought letting him live. Two of Odin’s get and three of his rearing running around the universe was too damned many. And yet... It didn’t exactly say good things about her that, given the chance and if he’d been conscious, she would still have fucked him right then and there on that pile of trash (and had done before, on different piles of trash). He wasn’t even her _type_. But there was... something. He had something. And that something did things to her. 

She reached down and slapped his pretty face a couple of times (with the hand _not_ holding the dagger) to see if he was foxing or if he really was out cold. If he jumped up at that moment and ended up with her knife in his eye socket, she could reasonably claim startled self-defense. But he didn’t move.

A little more worried now, Valkyrie felt his pulse, then peeled back his eyelids to check his pupils. All normal, as far as she could tell, and his color was still good, or at least it was no worse than usual. The standard Sakaarian diet of mixed drinks and cocktail snacks didn’t really seem to agree with him. 

“Well, you’re not dead,” she muttered, standing up and looming over Loki with a sour expression. “I guess you just needed a good nap.” She thought back to all the times she’d seen him, at the Grandmaster’s side, at work on the Commodore, even the few clandestine fucks they’d had in quiet corners (well, he _was_ very pretty). “Not really surprising. You’re the tensest son of a bitch I’ve ever met.”

She sheathed her blade and stood with her hands on her hips, wondering what the hell to do now. A sharp pain in the back of her neck reminded her that the prince sprawled out drooling at her feet wasn’t the only tired one there. She wanted sleep and a shower, a hot meal and a hot blonde, and if she was going to find Thor before he got himself killed trying to leave the planet, she wasn’t likely to have time for any of that. Maybe a shower, if she was quick.

But she couldn’t exactly leave Loki lying in a sweaty pile of old clothes and rancid take-out containers (no matter how much he deserved it, the prick). For one thing, he was stinking up the place worse than the take-out was. For another, she didn’t want to run the risk of him waking while she was in the shower. She could chain him up, of course, with the stuff she kept under the sink – not the chains she used in the bedroom, the _really_ strong stuff – but that still meant leaving him unconscious and out of her sight, and the last thing she needed was for him to roll over and suffocate face-down in a pile of her garbage. 

Well, a valkyrie was nothing if not resourceful and efficient, and as they both badly needed a shower... 

It took a few seconds of hot water pounding on him as he lay in a bare tied-up heap in the stall, but Loki did finally wake up, spluttering and coughing and trying to edge out of the spray plastering his hair over his eyes and blinding him. 

“About time,” said Valkyrie. 

“So pounding me into paste wasn’t enough? You’re trying to drown me now as well?” Loki struggled in confusion for few seconds before he realized that he was naked and chained up. “Tile at my back and arse, water on my skin...” He jerked his head, trying to shake the hair from his eyes, but the spray was hitting him squarely in the center of his scalp, forcing him to angle his head down to keep the water from running into his nose and mouth. “Am I in your _shower_?”

“Either that or I dumped you into a sewer pipe somewhere.”

“It certainly smells like a sewer in here. Don’t you ever clean?”

She kicked him hard between the muscles of his thigh. “That was deliberate,” she warned. “Don’t make me change my target. And sorry to offend your delicate nose, your highness, but you weren’t exactly improving the smell. I don’t know why the boss insisted on dressing you head to toe in leather, it’s the worst for holding in stench.”

“Oh,” Loki drawled, lips spreading wide in a predatory grin, “but I make it look so good.”

“You make chains look good, too. Be good and shut up and I might let you put the leather back on, when I’m done.” She reached for the soap and then paused, looking at the tangled mess covering his face. “When was the last time you washed your hair?”

“Uh... two days ago?”

“That’s _it_? Looks like a tangle of black rope.” She reached over him to adjust the showerhead, to get the water off of his head. 

“It’s temperamental,” retorted Loki, with an angry flip of his head that finally whipped the wet hair from his eyes. “I – oh, hello.” He sounded only a little startled to find the Valkyrie not merely in the shower with him, but also utterly, gloriously naked. “Suddenly, I am far less annoyed with you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, how very generous, it’s almost like you didn’t try to kill me half an hour ago. We both stank. No point in adding to the overall shit-hole vibe of my apartment.”

“Indeed not,” he agreed, licking his lips and swallowing hard, as though his mouth had suddenly gone dry in spite of the water. He watched Valkyrie soap herself liberally, following the paths of her hands sweeping over her arms and stomach and breasts, and between her legs... “Are you going to unchain me so I can wash, or...?”

“I’ll wash you.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Now who’s being generous?”

“Only saying this once more: shut up. Or I will shove the soap down your throat.”

His mulish expression made her think it wouldn’t be the first time, but he felt silent as soon as she bent down to palm the soap across his skin. She had the oddest feeling that, even if his hands had not been bound, he wouldn’t have dared touch her without permission, even though he clearly, badly, wanted to. When he dared to turn his head and ghost his lips across the outside of her breast, he actually shivered. She felt him shiver, felt his skin ripple with pleasure beneath her hands. 

“I’m going to wash your hair,” said Valkyrie, standing and letting the water run down to wash the soap from his skin. “Get on your knees.”

He shivered again and did as he was ordered, a little awkwardly, given the confined space, but his eyes were locked on her with a laser-like focus and his breath was coming quick and shallow. All in a rush, Valkyrie felt drunk on him. Princes of Asgard were supposed to give _her_ orders, not the other way around. But here was this pretty black-haired badly-behaved princeling, on his knees for her and hard as a rock over it. 

Oh, but he did things to her. 

Valkyrie stroked a hank of wet hair from his hungry, lust-blown eyes, then abruptly knotted her fingers in the wiry mess, threw a leg over his shoulder, and pushed his mouth against her cunt. “Make yourself useful, while you’re down there.”


End file.
